The Leaky Cauldron
by rhead-a-holyc
Summary: For all the wars the wizarding world would face, if there was one thing he would never want to change, it would be the Leaky Cauldron.


**Camp Potter II - Paintball, Week II**

**The Leaky Cauldron**

He sat, drinking Firewhiskey, in the same spot in the Leaky Cauldron he had every Saturday for the past decade or so. Sometimes it felt like nothing had changed, the Leaky Cauldron still looked the same as it always had, the only difference being Samuel replacing his father, Henry, at the counter. Henry still sometimes came to help during a particularly busy period or when he was feeling bored with nothing to do, both those were few and far between recently.

The, now very real, threat of Grindelwald had caused suspicion and mistrust to fill the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron. The once friendly and helpful feeling had changed into something that was much cooler and apathetic, as if each strange person was an enemy. There were times even friends were treated like that.

It was truly disappointing to know that they could not stand together against adversary, that they would shun a stranger on the possibility of them being an enemy without knowing the truth first.

He had thought, once, that wizards were better than muggles. He had been proven wrong time and again. Both muggles and wizards were exactly the same, both human, both following nothing more than their instincts. Even wizards feared what they did not understand, much like muggles when faced with magic, Parseltongue abilities being a prime example.

It was a place like here that the full brunt of the war that surrounded them could be felt in the air. The air was thick, and he had been witness to far too many arguments and fights breaking out within the pub. It was near embarrassing to watch purebloods halfbloods and muggleborns grapple like animals over perceived insult, or half-finished sentences, with no true barb hidden within them. He feared even muggles were able to stand together better than the wizarding world.

"Septimus, what are you thinking of?"

"Nothing important, my dear."

Fiona smiled fondly at his answer, "You know I hate it when you do that."

"I do, my dear, but it truly is nothing of importance."

Fiona covered his had with hers, one of the few intimate signs that were allowed to them by their pureblood teachings. Those teachings had been drilled into them that it was extremely difficult to go against. He had learned to divert many of them, but not all. That wasn't necessary as long as he knew when it was required for him to follow them.

He was unlike the rest of the wizarding world, who could not truly think for themselves and believed hearsay rather than finding the truth for themselves. That left them at a disadvantage that Grindelwald was currently taking advantage of. Grindelwald was able to recruit more and more people due to their fear and general distrust of other people, which only caused more distrust.

It was a never-ending cycle of distrust and anger, which would eventually lead to Grindelwald winning the war, unless the Light side managed to bring themselves together and defeat Grindelwald in a single attack. They could not remain in defence. It would not last long. No war was ever won by waiting, and only defending when forced to. It would never work.

The Ministry was so much of a joke that they weren't even a factor within the war, no matter how the Daily Prophet portrayed the Ministry as important. Only the Minister seemed to think his decisions, and the Ministry in general, were important in the outcome of the war, mistakenly so. Neither the Light side nor the Dark even thought of the Ministry when arranging their attack and defence towards the other. All of the Aurors had already chosen their sides and would not come to the Ministry's call and join together even if ordered to do so.

Admittedly the Unspeakables would probably be extremely powerful in their own right should they decide to fight, but they were too engrossed in their experiments and gaining of knowledge to bother. They knew they would be left alone no matter who was in charge, so whoever won did not affect them in the slightest. If they had been willing to fight, they would have been recruited a long time ago. Their knowledge would be invaluable to either side, but they would only fight if provoked. No one wanted that disadvantage, and the Unspeakables liked it that way.

"Come, Septimus, Abraxas should be returning to the Manor soon. You remember what happened last time he and Orion were home alone. Salazar knows what those two would do this time."

Had anyone else said something like that, he would have threat found a threat in their words, but he knew the consequences of Abraxas and Orion being anywhere alone. Fiona's words were no threat, only the reality he would face upon arriving at the Manor should he be late. Besides, Fiona wasn't one for threats. She simply carried out whatever punishment she saw fit, without a warning prior which made sure it certainly never happened again.

He drank the last of his Firewhiskey quickly, Fiona being already done with her butterbeer. She, for some reason, didn't enjoy Firewhiskey, preferring a softer drink to the fiery beverage. He had found it a bit strange at first, but he had found it as well as her hard-headedness enduring, even though it wasn't always to his advantage.

He took his last customary glance around the room, as he had done every Saturday for the past decade, knowing that despite the atmosphere and the outcome of the war the Leaky Cauldron would remain the same. The owner, the atmosphere, even the patrons will change over time but the Leaky Cauldron seemed timeless.

And in a way it was. He still remembered coming here with his father as a child. It had looked almost exactly the same. The memories were still imprinted onto the walls, unseen by everyone else.

For all the wars the wizarding world would face, if there was one thing he would never want to change, it would be the Leaky Cauldron.


End file.
